March 12, 2017After a Long Journey
You receive no welcome. What
the coyotes have not gnashed
between their teeth the men in
uniform will take.
Your children will be sent away.
The men have decided that your
children’s tears will be like a head
on a stake.
You will not weigh whether
it was better to die here or there.
Neither do the men care where you
lay your flesh.
But you will cry a salty ocean and
dream of men in suits sinking to
its desperate bottom, ties floating
around their necks.
When you see your children
they will be older but they
will hold the land in their
open hands.